Still Into You
by miserablekings
Summary: AU; Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson were best friends in high school, they were in a band together and had a very "friendly" relationship. One night Blaine gets home and his parents tell him he's being transferred. But what happens after 4 years of not being in each others lives, then all of sudden in them again. WARNING: OC death. (Not Kurt or Blaine.)
1. Prologue

**Hello all! This fic is written by 2 different people. And we had a few different betas. But I do hope you enjoy!**

**We DO NOT OWN characters, except for Trey, Jordan and Jack. But they don't come in until later!**

**Enjoy!**

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Blaine clicked the lighter, igniting his face in a rosy glow as he raised it to the cigarette he had already poised to his lips. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"God," Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes. "Those are awful for you, you know."

"You say as you roll your second joint of the day?" Blaine replied sarcastically, kicking Kurt's shin gently, pushing him toward the edge of Kurt's futon that they'd been draped across for what felt like years. Everyday for the last two weeks, they'd been stopping at Kurt's after school, taking turns strumming on his guitar or scribbling shitty teenage songs into a well used notebook.

"Shut up," Kurt snorted, tossing said joint on to the table night stand, smirking slightly. "Weed's a soft drug, less cancer."

"I'll just die faster than you then, you can enjoy your increased chances of schizophrenia," Blaine joked, pulling his knees against his chest and watching as Kurt examined the back of the pack of smokes.

"Oh, get off your high horse, you smoke weed too."

Blaine grinned, reaching out to tousle Kurt's hair. The mood changed, as it does, from joking to a type of messed up flirting the two of them engaged in daily.

"I'm straight," Kurt reminded him, for the third time that day.

"Me too," Blaine replied, his eyes twinkling, bending forward to press his lips against Kurt's neck.

"Fuck you," Kurt whispered, turning around to catch Blaine's mouth with his own. This, too, was a daily occurrence. They stayed like this for a bit, lips struggling hungrily, biting and sucking. It was kind of disgusting, In a totally hot way.

The beginning small notes of the first song on the record repeated itself and Blaine broke the kiss to change it.

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, leafing through Kurt's CD collection.

"You have good judgement," was Kurt's reply, rolling his shoulders so one sleeve hung low on his shoulder. He bit his lip and tried to look as seductive as an awkward 16 year old could, even if he masked his age with enormous amounts of eyeliner.

Blaine sighed, starting from the beginning, this time picking a few up and examining the back with a quizzical look.

"I can't decide if I hate or love your music taste," he stated, raising his eyebrows.

"Huh?" Kurt replied, sitting up slightly and running his fingers through his hair.

"Bloodliner, 'Fields of Death'," Blaine read aloud. "Featuring tracks such as 'Fuck you', 'Fuck me', and 'Fuck everything'." He paused. "Is this real, because holy shit."

"Shut up," Kurt laughed, tossing a pillow at Blaine. "What time do you have to be home?" he asked on a passing thought.

"Not for a long time, why?"

"Okay, I'm going to play this for you, and let it blow your mind," Kurt grinned, slipping off his bed and grabbing the CD from Blaine, popping it out of its case and slipping it into the CD played he'd had installed in his bookshelf.

"Seriously?" Blaine snickered, letting Kurt lead him back to the bed by his wrist.

"Just wait," Kurt hushed him, laying down across his mattress. They laid and listened to the genre-less mess that was Bloodliner for a full hour before Blaine decided it was time he left.

"I should probably head back," Blaine told him, sitting up, disrupting the warmth he'd created.

Kurt let out a low whine and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, "Alright, see you tomorrow?"

"Bye! And you will definitely see me tomorrow!" Blaine said, as a reply, leaning forward to peck Kurt on the cheek as he pulled his boots on over his mismatched socks.

"Bye," Kurt replied, standing to switch off the CD that was screeching some poem about science at them.

And Blaine left.

* * *

"Home!" Blaine called, slipping off his boots and tossing them into the closet.

"Blaine, honey, welcome home," his mothers cheery tone rang down toward him. "C'mon up we want to talk about something."

"We?" Blaine replied, pulling off his coat, and half heartedly hanging it on the hook. "Who's we?"

"You, me, and your father," his mother said. Blaine could imagine the exact scenario right then, and shuddered at the thought.

"Alright?" he phrased it as a question, and slowly began climbing the staircase, two at a time.

His mother sat at the end of the table, while his father sat next to her, looking a mix of angry, uncomfortable, and apologetic. His mother however conveyed no emotion other than bliss.

"What's up?" Blaine asked, sitting across from his father and quirking an eyebrow.

"Have you heard of that private boarding school, Dalton Academy?" his father began, his voice soft.

_Yes._ "No," Blaine lied.

"It's a great school, uniforms, a lot of clubs, high standards, zero tolerance for bullying."

"Oh," Blaine replied, unsure what to expect.

"Tuition was tough, but, we've gotten you a spot; you've been enrolled in Dalton Academy!" his mother quipped, looking at him through prettily framed eyes.

"What? Is this a joke?"

His father looked awkward. "Well, uh, you see, we've noticed some strange behavior in you recently, hanging out with Kurt and his band of skanks. You're wearing eyeliner for God's sake. You- Your clothes reek of smoke and weed and God knows what else," he stumbled, glancing at his wife for support.

Blaine stared at the table, his gaze hard, "I'm staying here."

"Blaine," his mother whispered, giving him the look of disappointment only mothers could give. "Please, you can still see us and your friends on holidays and weekends, and its only for a few years."

"Mum," Blaine replied, in the same tone. "But, my life is here, my friends, my school, my band, me and Kurt have a band, we've been working on so many songs. C'mon, dad?"

"Blaine, we've already paid, its been arranged, you leave tomorrow," his dad spoke quietly.

"Tomorrow!?" Blaine exclaimed. "How the fuck do I leave tomorrow?"

"Blaine! Language," his mother quipped.

"In answer to your question, it's a two hour drive and you will be dorming there so you can't see Kurt," Blaine's father explained. Blaine was furious, they couldn't just send him away.

"You can't just send me off to the middle of nowhere and expect me not to find a way out of this," Blaine interjected, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You will be watched very carefully at the school. The school is a place for rebellious teens to be disciplined," his mother informed. Blaine's eyes widened.

"Dad!" Blaine protested weakly. "Please."

"Enough," his mother stated. "Blaine, its been arranged, you have 12 hours. Please, just, do this, for us at least, if not for you?"

Blaine wanted to kick a wall or set himself on fire. Something to be an example to his parents that he wasn't something they could push around and ignore like this. But instead he stood and stalked to his room. He pulled out his phone, trying to sum it up in a single text.

_"I'm transferring, not my choice. See you later,"_ was all he could muster to send to Kurt. He closed his eyes and pretended not to hear the custom ringtone he'd set to Kurt. He slowly fell asleep listening to the soft vibration of an incoming call.

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**We should be posting every week because we have 7 chapters written. **

**But; Thank you to, kateofoz, thrandildo and starlightauriel. **

**Dzeja's tumblr: williamrieker**

**Sage's tumblr: peregrintool**

**Hoped you liked it!**


	2. Pretty Reckless

**Here's chapter 2! **

**We DO NOT OWN the characters except Trey and Jordan, and WE DO NOT OWN THE SONG. **

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It has been 4 years since Blaine transferred. Kurt tried relentlessly to get a hold of him. He'd even tried going to his house, but his mum just shook her head at him from the window, refusing to let Kurt in. It was weird not walking down the hallways at McKinley like they'd owned them, he felt insecure without Blaine. Instead of flaunting his leather jackets, piercings and dyed hair, he tried to avoid being looked at as much as possible. The band lost it's only other member. Kurt got a lot angrier than he already was, snapping at his dad, Finn and his friends. He felt bad, but he couldn't help it. But he pushed through everything, and then met Nick at a Bloodliner concert, who told him he was applying to NYU for music. They became close quickly, even though Nick went to some weird school for troubled teens.

Now it's Kurt's second year at NYU, he lives in a small apartment with his new band members, Nick, Trey and Elliot. The entire band is extremely gay, yet none of them were together. Their apartment was messy, with sheet music strewn across the floor, instruments laying around, and half full mugs of tea and coffee littered table tops. This apartment was empty and quiet, because the band was at a gig in downtown New York City.

A bass was booming loudly as 'I Don't Care' by Icona Pop blared in the background. Backstage, the band was getting ready for their set that night. They were hired by a loud girl that went to Kurt's high school, Rachel Barbra Berry,also known as hobbit. Kurt had consulted the band, and they had all agreed to do it. She gave them a list of songs they could do, and she made it very clear they could not do any originals. So there they were, quickly applying too much eyeliner, and styling their hair so it looked like they had just had rough sex. They got their cue and went out onto the dinghy club stage. Kurt took his spot at the front. He looked around to see who was there, and someones face caught his eyes.

Blaine Anderson.

He was in his first year at NYU and he lived with his best friends Jordan and Rachel. Rachel insisted that they go to a dingy club for Jordan's birthday that night. Jordan had no idea until that night. Rachel didn't even tell them why they were going to this club, which was called Pretty Reckless. Apparently it's where that band 'Pretty Reckless' got their name.

"Rachel, do we really need to come here?" Blaine shouted over the booming music and people's cheers.

"Yes. I hired a band and Jordan's gonna love it," Rachel gushed, Blaine just nodded and tried to look around, not succeeding because of the flashing lights and darkness.

"Hey, I got you guys drinks!" said a tall brunette, known as Jordan Phelps. He had straight brown hair that was messy from not grooming, he looked down at Blaine with his dark chocolate eyes.

"Aw thanks JJ," Rachel said, she took her pink drink with an umbrella.

"And for you sir!" Jordan proclaimed, he handed Blaine a pint of amber beer. Blaine took the cool drink in his warm sweaty hands.

"To Jordan!" Blaine yelled. He held up his pint, Rachel held up her pink drink and Jordan laughed, he looked at the floor bashfully raising his pint as well. They all clinked glasses, and the band started.

The faceless bass player started playing his guitar fast, spotlights hitting the band members. The lead vocalists face still hidden, when he raised his head Blaine's eyes widened. There stood Kurt Hummel. He had eyeliner smudged around his eyes, his coif was a fiery red, piercings gleaming in the light, ripped jeans hugging his legs and his navy blue t-shirt clings to his fit torso.

_"Can't count the years on one hand, that we've been together,_

_I need the other one to hold you, make you, make you feel better,_

_it's not a walk in the park, to love each other."_

Kurt's voice filled the club giving Blaine shivers, his voice was still as soft as Blaine remembered except there was a hint of aggression. Blaine had never expected Kurt to sing Paramore though, found him more of a Fall Out Boy person, maybe even My Chemical Romance.

Kurt tried to look anywhere but Blaine, this song was not perfect for his situation. If Blaine saw him staring he'd recognize him; Kurt knew him well enough to understand him even if it had been years.

_"But when the fingers are interlocked, can't deny, can't deny, you're worth it,_

_Cause after all this time, I'm still into you."_

Kurt paused, he looked at Blaine. Rachel noticed this and her eyes widened, she whacked Blaine, he looked up at his friend who pointed at the stage. He looked up and stared right back at Kurt. Kurt's stomach felt like when you run through a field and all the butterflies fly out of the flowers.

_"I should be over all the butterflies, I'm into you,_

_And maybe on the worst nights, I'm into you,_

_Let me wonder how got this far, I'm into you,_

_Now I don't really need to wonder, I'm into you."_

Kurt just focused on the mic, and closed his eyes not wanting to look at that bright face that left his life so long ago, breaking his heart.

Blaine watched as his old friend and maybe even lover focused on the mic in front of him. Blaine wondered what Kurt had thought of him when he left.

_"I'm still into you."_

The song ended with a bang and the band members came up beside Kurt, he laughed, showing off his beautiful smile. A boy with big hair, stretchers and tattoos came up and kissed Kurt passionately, Kurt laughed against his lips. Blaine felt something, that was not butterflies, boil in his stomach. Was he fucking jealous? He hadn't seen this man in years and now he was jealous.

Blaine averted his eyes from the two men on stage and looked at the other band members. There was a small boy who was on the keyboard, he had blond curly hair, a neck tattoo (it was just words though, like a storybook) and he wasn't wearing shoes, just socks. Red and blue to be specific. And the guy who was playing the bass had an eyepatch, wait, was that Nick Duval? Yeah that totally was. Nick hadn't really changed, except his hair was purple and he wore a black beanie, he had spider bites and what looked like a studded eyepatch.

"Oh my god they were great. Rach!" Jordan exclaimed, he took his camera which was hanging around his neck and took a picture of the band.

* * *

After about an hour of Kurt and his band singing they finally left the stage. When Blaine went to go and talk to Rachel, who was still where they had been standing to watch the band, she was with some tall guy who looked really out of place there. Blaine shrugged and turned to find his way to the bar, where he had seen Jordan last. When Blaine had finally pushed his way through the sweaty mass of people Blaine found himself at the bar. He scanned the people and saw Jordan leaning against the wall at the end, nursing a drink and laughing with the blond keyboardist. Blaine sighed and walked out of the over stimulating club that was blasting an old Lady Gaga song.

Blaine leaned back against the gross damp wall, he took out his pack of cigarettes. The one thing after he transferred he could not give up, besides the fact that he likes dick. He clicked his lighter letting the flames burn the smoke. He took a drag from it, inhaling and exhaling.

"You know those are bad for you, right?" said a soft voice that was all too familiar

"Still don't smoke eh?" Blaine answered, breathing out from his mouth and nose like a dragon.

"My dad got cancer. I don't want cancer," Kurt replied. Blaine looked at him, concerned.

"He had it, but it went away since we treated it early enough," Kurt assured Blaine. He nodded and took another drag of his smoke.

"I don't really think anyone wants cancer, Kurt," Blaine awkwardly said. Kurt shrugged and brought out a flask of what was probably whiskey. It was always Kurt's favorite kind of alcohol.

"So, how's life been?" Kurt asked after a long silence of Blaine smoking and Kurt drinking.

"Good, I've been good," Blaine told Kurt, which wasn't a lie, but wasn't really the truth either.

"Mmmhm, what do you do?" Kurt asked, he tried to seem interested but failing.

"Um, well I go to NYU, play cello; violin, piano and guitar, work at the local Starbucks by my apartment with my friend Jordan. And I sometimes write. It's all pretty great!" Blaine replied excitedly. Kurt looked at this man he once knew, all grown up. What used to be splotchy red cheeks were replaced with sharp cheekbones and slight stubble. His hair which used to be unruly and long, was kept tidy on his head only a smidge of gel in it to keep it tamed. His Harry Potter glasses replaced with contacts, and a slim fit figure. Which Kurt didn't want to spend looking at too long, not wanting to be caught staring. Kurt didn't even know if he was gay.

"What about you?" Blaine asked, he looked at at Kurt. He looked up at Blaine a little distracted by his soft pink lips.

"Oh um I live with 3 guys, who are my band, I am in my second year at NYU and I study music. I work, well I do gigs and sometimes work at a department store." Kurt paused seeing if he forgot something,

"Oh yeah and I'm extremely homosexual."

Blaine chuckled at that last comment.

"Me too," Blaine explained. Kurt almost choked on his whiskey. This man was seemingly single, attractive and his first love.

"Well cool man, I got to go though," Kurt said, trying to act all cool.

"Oh. See you later Kurt," Blaine watched Kurt head back inside."Wait!"

Kurt turned around at Blaine's seemingly desperate voice, and raised his eyebrow.

"When will I see you again?" Blaine called out to him. Kurt grinned and ran back to him handing him a card then jogging off back into the club.

Blaine looked down at the business card, that read,

_"The Miserable kings._

_Website: .com_

_Number: fuck u no number."_

Blaine laughed at that last one. On the other side of the card was an angsty picture of the four of them in a dark wet ally filled with smoke. On the bottom were the names, Elliot, Trey Crawford, Nick Duval and Kurt Hummel. Blaine read out loud, having not said that name for years.

_Kurt Hummel._

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**Also the song in this chapter was "Still Into You" By Paramore!**

**Thank you to Bela for betaing this chapter (thrandildo),**

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	3. I'll Remember

**Hey! **

**We DO NOT own any characters except Trey and Jordan. **

* * *

Kurt woke up the next day with abandoned eyeliner smudged around his eyelids and a throbbing headache. He hobbled out of his bedroom wearing a tight tanktop with some movie quote scrawled in golden ink and a pair of checkered boxers.

"Trey?" he called, hearing enthusiastic humming coming from the kitchen. He turned the corner and poked his head through the open door. A brunet boy with shaggy, unbrushed hair, sported a pair of glasses that were perched on his nose. He stood in front of the stove, wearing a pair of too tight fuchsia jeans that didn't reach his ankles. The boy looked up at him and squeaked running out of the room.

"It's cool, I saw you," Kurt laughed, digging through the sink to find the least horrifically, dirty mug.

He entered the room again, looking awkward, "I'm, uh, Jordan."

"Kurt,"

"Where's, uh, Trey?" Jordan asked, blinking uncomfortably.

"Oh, shit you're one of Trey's? Damn, I didn't think the little man had it in him, you seem more Elliot's type." Nick exclaimed, entering the room, his white trenchcoat billowing out behind him, he came behind Jordan, brushing the boys arm gingerly with his own.

"Jesus, Nick." Elliot grinned, trailing after the trenchcoated man, completely naked and unashamed, "He's totally Trey's type, opposites attract."

"But," Nick began, jabbing an accusatory finger at Elliot, "you're always talking about your weakness for cute, shy boys,"

"Mm," Elliot muttered, leaning in to look at Jordan closer, "You are fucking adorable, I'll give you that."

"Um," Was all Jordan said.

"Fucks sake, guys, give him some space, and El, put some fucking pants on." Kurt rolled his eyes, hopping up to sit on the counter and dabbing at his smudged eye liner using the toasted as a mirror.

"Where is Trey?" Nick asked, opening the tea cupboard and closing it after a few moments, "Shouldn't he be out here making breakfast for his little dormouse?"

Jordan raised his eyebrows at the nickname, "Actually, uh, I was making breakfast, I was, um, pancakes?"

Everyone froze.

"Wait, you, you can cook?" Nick whispered, shocked,

Kurt cried out in protest, "Nick, I can cook too, remember?"

"But not..." Elliott started, excited at the aspect of actual baked goods, "Pancakes."

"Trey!" Nick called, "We're keeping your lover, he's our slave now!" He grinned at Jordan, like an alligator would its prey, and tucked a piece of hair into the band of his eyepatch.

"Whats that?" Trey asked, looking confused, as he slipped in the kitchen, his hair ruffled and fluffy, "Hey, Jordan, I see you met them."

"Uh, yeah." Jordan replied, smiling awkwardly at the blond, as Nick circled him in wonder.

"Nick." Trey muttered, as a warning, "Stop scaring our guest."

"And put fucking pants on, Elliott," Kurt repeated.

"Do you smoke, Jordy baby?" Elliott asked, completely ignoring Kurt.

"Yeah." Jordan replied, giving a short nod, and avoiding all eye contact with the naked man who stood in front of him.

"Lets go, boys," Elliot grinned, pulling a small bag of weed from behind the fridge.

"But pancakes," Nick complained at the exact time that Kurt said, "Put on pants."

"There is a time for both those things, and now, is not then." Elliot replied, for dramatic effect, pointing at Nick.

Trey shot Jordan an apologetic look, "I wish I could say they aren't like this all the time, but, they are,"

"Its fine," Jordan nodded, smiling slightly, "They're fun, I like that, I would like it more if he put on clothes though."

"That's what I said!" Kurt exclaimed, throwing a pillow at Elliot.

Elliot just grinned and waved the bag of weed at him, "Let's go."

After an hour or so of rolling and lighting joint after joint Kurt decided he couldn't stay home with them anymore,

"I'm going out, I have my phone though, so text me, Nick stop staring at Jordan like you're going to eat him, and Elliot put on fucking pants,"

"See you!" Trey called, sweetly, from his perch, leaning against Jordans legs.

"Bye!" Elliot and Nick chorused.

So Kurt left, wrapping his light grey coat tighter around his shoulders as he hopped down the staircase that lead to the bitter air and streets of New York City. After 20 minutes of wandering, Kurt found himself at the entrance of the club from last night. He hovered for a moment, the warmth reflecting off his skin and reminding him of the creeping cold that was slowly taking control of his body. He walked in.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for, Blaine, maybe, a drink more likely. He coasted carefully and quietly over to the bar, pulling out his ID to flash as he ordered a Gin and Tonic. He sat carefully strung across one and a half bar stools, raking the crowd with his eyes hoping to see a familiar face. No one caught his eye, and he spun toward the counter in defeat, taking a large sip of his drink.

* * *

Blaine woke up, the sun shining through his curtains, his head pounding and his ears ringing. He didn't even drink that much, okay maybe that was a small lie. He stumbled out into his living room, Jordan and Rachel were nowhere to be see. Usually they were either both sprawled on the couches or shuffling around in and out of rooms.

He dragged himself into the kitchen to make himself some tea, then something dawned on him. Rachel wasn't here. He could smoke. He barreled into his room grabbing his pack of smokes, not knowing how long Rachel would be gone for. He looked for one of his many lighters, papers fluttered to the floor and pens rolled, he finally found a small pink one.

Blaine smiled, sticking the cigarette into his mouth lighting it. He breathed in the cancer and let the smoke fill his lungs. His eyes closed and he walked back into the kitchen where his kettle was screaming. Blaine took it off the burner, he opened the old dingy cupboard and grabbing out a wide white mug that said "I 3 NYC". Blaine laughed at the over used phrase, he opened a drawer searching through the many teas they had.

"Sleepy Time, English Breakfast, Camomile, Peppermint, Gingerbread, ooh that fucker almost drank all of my passion fruit tea," Blaine mumbled to himself. He grabbed the box and took out the last bag of his favorite tea.

Blaine poured the steaming hot water into the mug, and watched as the water turned a dark pink. He took his mug into the living room placing it on the nice Barbra Streisand coaster Rachel bought.

Blaine went to the window and flicked out the cigarette butt. He left the window open and went around opening every other window. He then dug around in their supply closet and found a Febreze bottle. He grinned. Rachel would never know.

Blaine flopped down on the nice black couch, mug in hand. He sighed and took a sip, instantly regretting it when the tea burned his mouth.

"Not so passionate, huh? Motherfucker," Blaine whispered to the mug, placing it down on the coaster.

He sat in silence thinking about his night, seeing Kurt, finding out he was gay, talking to him. It was overwhelming. After Blaine got bored of waiting for his tea to cool down, he got up and made his way to the bathroom.

He turned the knobs, water came spitting out of the nozzle. Blaine pulled off his shirt and shimmied out of his pants. The steam fogged up the mirror, but Blaine could still see himself, he wondered if it was as weird for Kurt to see Blaine all grown up as it was for Blaine to see Kurt. He thought about how fit Kurt was, how all that old babyfat had just gone, and now he was like a fucking god. Blaine looked at his body, he wondered if he looked any different, and if he did, was it good or bad.

After a few minutes of studying himself in the mirror, it fogged over fully and he hopped into the scalding water. All of a sudden he was way more awake than before, he made a whooping noise and laughed. Once the water was perfect temperature he started to wash himself.

Blaine had changed quite a bit since him and Kurt were friends. One, he stopper wearing guyliner; Two, he cut his hair and gelled it to his head; Three, he became more polite to people; Four, started to like better music; Five, started to work out; Six, wore better clothes; and lastly he stopped getting high all the time, and drinking as much.

Kurt seemed like he hadn't at all, he was still him, guyliner and all. Blaine smiled at the thought of his old best friend.

He put on a nice black V-neck with grey skinny jeans, he looked at the clock for the first time that day and almost fell over, it was 5pm. Blaine looked around and thought about what he could do. After 3 minutes of jumping on his bed he decided on going to get coffee, smoke a bit and head to Pretty Reckless.

Blaine threw on his grey scarf and dark green jacket, he looked around his apartment to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything and shrugged, grabbing his key out of the bowl heading out.

He walked into the Starbucks he worked at on weekdays and nodded at one of his coworkers. He paused to say hi, but it was mostly to tell him he wanted a medium drip. The guy nodded and started it. When the barista handed over the medium drip, Blaine handed him the money and walked out.

He walked down the cold New York street, a half empty cup of coffee, when he passed a garbage he threw it in, grimacing. Blaine took out a cigarette and his lighter. He brought the lighter carefully up to the end of the smoke, and flicked it on. As soon as the cigarette was lit, he breathed the slightly bitter taste in, deeply.

When he finally reached the club he was tired and sore and just wanted a drink. He walked in and ordered a pint. He wondered if Kurt would be here, Probably not, but he wondered.

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**We will update sometime soon :)**


	4. Heaven Knows

**Heyy, so here is this chapter, it's kinda short but you guy's get a really long chapter next!**

**Disclaimer: We DO NOT own anything! (Except Trey+Jordan.)**

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Blaine wandered through the mess of people, occasionally dancing with a few that crossed his path. His mind was getting fuzzy and he needed a smoke. Blaine went to the bar, asked for a beer, then left the club. He strutted over to the spot he leaned on last night. And he remembered Kurt, young and beautiful. He smiled and looked up at the stars. He took a smoke out of his pocket and lit the cigarette.

"Mmm, well hello." Said a man taller than Blaine, he slid up standing next to him a little bit too close for comfort. Blaine took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Oh please don't stop smoking, because you're fucking hot when you do it." The man exclaimed.

"Um, hi. Do I know you?" Blaine questioned, the man laughed.

"Sebastian Smythe." He told Blaine, Blaine nodded. "Question still stands." Blaine reminded Sebastian.

"Well no, but I would love to get to know you." Sebastian murmured, trying to be seductive. "Cool," Blaine said quietly, he thought about what he could say. He could pull the, 'I'm not gay card', nah he was done with denying that.

"I think you seem uninterested." Sebastian pointed out, Blaine raised his eyebrows and took another drag of his smoke.

"You think." He mumbled around his smoke.

"I can make you interested." Sebastian whispered into Blaine's ear. Blaine sighed dropping his half done cigarette down on the ground, putting it out with his foot.

"Ha, thanks but no thanks." Blaine proclaimed, walking away from the wall, beer in hand. As he's walking he bumps into someone he had been looking for, his beer spilt all over himself but he didn't care because Kurt was right in front of him. He wore a simple grey shirt, but it looked good on him, his eyeliner was smudged and he looked annoyed.

"Hey Kurt!"

* * *

"Hey there, gorgeous, drinking alone tonight, I see?" A drawling tone rose Kurt out of his search, he glanced up to see a semi-attractive boy a few years older than Kurt himself.

He thought for a moment about turning him down, telling him to fuck off with an angry shove, but he had come here in search of a person who'd probably forgotten about him by now.

He sighed, "Yeah, and yourself?" Kurt replied, rolling his shoulders and biting his lip.

"Yup, its a pity, don't you think, two gorgeous guys like us, alone on such a beautiful night. I'm Chandler," He moved closer, each word was a hot and sticky breath on Kurt's skin. Kurt didn't reply, he took the last sip of his drink and glanced away over the crowd, "Looking for someone, beautiful?"

"My friend, Blaine, we met here last night, I.. I thought.."

"Screw him," Chandler replied, "What's your name? Hey bartender, two beers please,"

"Kurt."

"Nice,"

"Mm." Kurt had stopped trying a long time ago. "So, listen, my girlfriend is out of town and I have the house to myself, what do you say we go back to my place?" Chandler whispered, with all the seduction he could muster.

"Your girlfriend?!" Kurt exclaimed, "God, no, fuck, ugh." He stood up and pushed the creep away, grabbing the beer Chandler had bought him, walking into the mass of people.

"Hey come back! I thought we had a connection!" Chandler called after him. Kurt sighed, and walked toward the door leading to the back alley where he and Blaine had met before, he shoved the door open carelessly. He almost ran into a shorter man with gelled hair; more specifically, the man he'd come here to find.

"Hey Kurt!" Blaine said, cheerfully,

"Blaine." Kurt replied, breathlessly.

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**Stay tuned for more!**

**(Next chapter coming in a few minutes!)**


	5. This Is Gospel

**Yeah 2 updates in a day.**

**Disclaimer: Do NOT own anything, except Trey and Jordan, as well as Bloodliner.**

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"You okay?" Blaine asked, quirking his eyebrow at Kurt who had a familiar expression of exasperation and annoyance.

"Yeah, just, bar guys, you know," Kurt replied, looking relieved.

"Oh, were you, uh, coming outside?" Blaine asked, gesturing to where Sebastian still stood, leaning against the wall, making soft irritated noises.

"Oh, no, I was, uh, looking for you actually," Kurt admitted, looking embarrassed.

"I was too, actually," Blaine blushed.

"Oh, this is very touching," Sebastian groaned, pushing past Blaine, "but I'm going to find a hot guy who'll actually come home with me, unlike you," He rolled his eyes and disappeared into the dim club with a thumping bass.

"Who was..." Kurt began,

"An asshole," Blaine cut him off with a wave of his hand, "Do you wanna dance? I'll buy you a drink?"

Kurt bit his lip to hide a grin, "I'd like that, but please, I'll buy, I made you spill your drink," He gestured at the darker splotch across Blaine's front,

"C'mon Kurt, if I remember correctly, the last time we hung out, you bought the ice cream, its my turn,"

"You remember that?" Kurt whispered, confused and suddenly serious.

"Of course, doofus," Blaine smirked, flicking a piece of fluff off Kurt's shoulder, "I didn't leave without a care, I thought about you a lot,"

"Jesus, so did I," Kurt muttered, abashed, "Well, Blaine Anderson, its your turn, then."

Blaine smiled, and walked past Kurt, catching the sleeve of his coat on Blaine finger, "Shall we?" And they disappeared into the crowd like smoke into the sky.

* * *

"What'll you have?" Blaine asked, opening his wallet.

"What's the cheapest?" Kurt questioned, biting his lip again, it was hard to be comfortable with Blaine, even if they were best friends a few years ago.

"C'mon Kurt, price doesn't matter, its just a drink."

Kurt nodded, but ordered the second cheapest drink anyways, "So whats new?" he asked Blaine, after the bartender aimlessly sloshed their drinks across the counter.

Blaine took a sip and made a face, "Thats a big question. Its been awhile."

"Its been too long, honestly," Kurt deadpanned, swirling his drink with the tip of his finger.

"So, uh, Elliot?" Blaine addressed the question he'd been longing to ask since he'd watched them perform the day before.

"What about him?" Kurt asked, obliviously.

"Are you two.." Blaine trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

"God. No. God." Kurt stumbled, waving his hands, "No, we're, no, we're not, its just a thing we do, you know, stage gay, rebellion, all that."

"Oh, thank god," Blaine replied, hiding his relief by taking another sip.

"What about you, seeing anyone?"

"Nah, I mean, there were guys, I dated a guy named Richard for a few months, but it wasn't serious, I mean..."

"No, no I get it, I was seeing a guy not long ago, Jeremy or some shit, I don't remember." Kurt smiled, gently nursing the drink Blaine'd bought him.

"Alright," Blaine sighed.

"Alright." Kurt agreed, and they were silent.

"Do, uh, do you want to, like, dance, or something?" Blaine asked, raising his hazel eyes to meet Kurt's.

"God yes." Kurt slipped off the barstool and lead Blaine into the center of the dance floor, shaking his hips to the tune of some awful electronica sound with a repetitive bass line. Blaine responded to Kurts dancing accordingly, but it was obvious he hadn't in a long time.

"You're good at this," Blaine yelled over the music, putting his arm around Kurt's waist.

"You too." Kurt grinned, pulling Blaine's other hand to his other hip and smiling seductively at him. They shuffled awkwardly together, hardly any breathing room between them.

"Um," Blaine whispered, his voice close to Kurt's ear, making the hair along his neck stick up, "I promise I'm not trying to hook up with you, but, what do you say we leave?"

Kurt nodded into the curve of Blaine's neck, "I wouldn't care if you were trying to hook up, you know,"

"God," Blaine replied, grabbing Kurt by the wrist and gently dragging him off the dance floor, and out on to the cold and bitter streets of New York.

"Where do you want to go?" Kurt asked, once they'd started walking, he grabbed the front of shirt and held it in front of him, airing out the sweat half from nerves, half from dancing.

"Your place, maybe? I promise I'm not trying to hook up with you," Blaine repeated, obviously just as nervous as Kurt felt.

"Sure," Kurt smirked, "I live a few blocks from here,"

They walked in silence, occasionally pointing out art, or funny street signs. It was wonderful. They used to be able to sit in hours of silence on Kurts mattress, listening to records and the sounds of the night.

"This is it," Kurt gestured at the dingy looking apartment building, "We're, uh, on the 4th floor, and the elevator is jolty at best, we'd better take the stairs."

"Alright," Blaine agreed, trailing after Kurt into the 16 story building he called home, "And, uh, who do you room with again?"

"Well, Elliot, Nick and Trey, you know, from my band, but Elliot almost constantly has some piece of eye candy on display, and Nick often invites these two equally loud twins who live below us, but generally its just the 4 of us."

"Huh." Blaine replied, "Sounds like a full house,"

"Yeah, we're kind of like a family I guess, I mind they're all queer as fuck, but we'd never consider dating, you know?"

"Yeah, my roommate Jordan is gay as a carebear, but we're friends."

"Jordan? Medium height, with brown hair and eyes, always has a camera?" Kurt asked, he looked surprised.

"Um, do you know him?"

"He was at my house this morning."

"Oh." Blaine replied.

"Yeah, he, um, hooked up with one of my boys, that makes sense, I knew I recognized him." Kurt gestured at the door after they'd climbed 4 flights of stairs, "This is us," He fumbled with the lock and shoved the door open.

"Kurt! Is that you?" Trey's panicked tone rang at him,

"Jesus, what is it?" Kurt asked, pulling Blaine along with him as he followed Trey's voice into the living room. Nothing could've prepared him for what had unfolded after he left. Not only was Elliot still naked, but he had pulled out a giant fist shaped dildo and put it on the table as a centerpiece, Jordan was asleep, surrounded by plates and plates of pancakes, Nick was laying on the ground, replacing his shirt with a row of pancakes across his torso.

"What the fuck." Blaine whispered.

"Who's that?" Elliot demanded, "You should've told us there was company, we would've hid the pancakes."

Trey laughed, "Jordan is company too," He reminded Elliot.

"Pancakes." Nick muttered, weakly, stroking the pancake he'd laid over his belly button with a dazed expression.

"Guy's! Nick, for fucks sake you worked Jordan to death," ("He's not dead, he's asleep, sleep. Shush." Nick murmured.) "Elliot, I.. I don't even want to know what you were planning with that." ("What? Its modern art!" Elliot replied, his words slurred.) "And Trey, you actually didn't do anything wrong this time, I'm proud of you," Kurt sighed, deeply, bending down to pick up a plate of pancakes, and ignoring the quiet hiss Nick let out.

"I'm Blaine." Blaine said, smiling kindly.

"Blaine?" Jordan whimpered, suddenly awake, "Oh, shit, man, you weren't supposed to be here, what time is it, oh god."

"Are you high, Jordan?" Kurt asked, glaring at Elliot who shrugged in response.

"Yeah. Elliot kept rolling joints, there were so many, I had to help." He looked confused and then noticed the pancakes that formed a circle around his body, "Shit."

"I'm.. I'm not going to deal with this," Kurt decided, throwing his hands up and leading an amused looking Blaine into his room.

"They always like that?" Blaine laughed, after the door was closed behind them.

"Unfortunately," Kurt sighed, and lay across his bed, "Not that bad, until they get high though."

"Bummer." Blaine smiled, laying next to him on the bed, pressing his body against Kurt's, "Well, this is familiar."

The corner of Kurt's mouth quirked and he turned to look at Blaine, "If you look beyond the gel and good oral hygiene, you look the same as the sweaty teenager` you once were."

"Thanks," Blaine turned to face Kurt too, their faces inches apart, "You still listen to Bloodliner?" A pattering of footsteps stopped at the door,

"You don't have to answer that, Kurt," A breathy voice muttered under the crack, "I will for you. Yes."

"Nick, fuck off." Kurt grinned, tossing a pillow at the door.

"Nick likes Bloodliner?"

"Loves them."

Blaine chuckled, "You still look the same," He mused, pressing their foreheads together.

"Yeah?" Kurt inched closer.

"Yeah." Blaine whispered, pressing his lips against Kurts.

"Yeah." Kurt repeated, putting a hand lazily on Blaine's side as their mouths met hungrily together. But this time wasn't that disgusting. It was still totally hot though.

* * *

Blaine woke up in a strangers bed. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and yawned thoughtfully, glancing at Kurt who was taking up far more than his share of the bed. Blaine bent forward and kissed his forehead gently. They hadn't fucked. For that, Blaine was grateful. Kurt was totally hot, enormously so, even if his eyeliner was slightly outdated. But sex would be too much, just laying, and kissing, was perfect.

Kurt shifted and made a contented sleepy noise. He blinked and looked worriedly up at Blaine, "Hey."

"Hey." Blaine replied, smiling softly, "You hungry?"

"No food." Kurt nuzzled his face back into the pillow.

"Theres probably pancakes left."

"Fuck." Kurt whispered, sitting up and stretching, "Pancakes it is then."

So, pancakes it was. They each ate 3 before deciding enough was enough, as Nick and Trey trickled in through the door,

"Are you eating my pancakes?" Nick demanded, staring at the plate Kurt was shoving into the stack of dirty dishes.

"No, I"m eating Jordans pancakes, and they're really good," Kurt clarified, shooting a look at Nick, who scowled.

"Thanks." Jordan smiled earnestly, walking in behind Trey, wearing another of Treys shirts, looking content.

"Two nights in a row, this is getting serious," Kurt commented, knocking Elliott's fist shaped dildo off the table and replacing it with an empty vase, "We need flowers." He muttered to no one in particular.

"I better head out," Blaine whispered, hugging Kurt from behind, "You want a ride Jj?"

"Nah." Jordan answered, smiling at Trey, "I'm good."

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**Yeah, hoped you enjoyed!**


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